


In His Kiss

by often_adamanta



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta'd by <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_dianadisaster"><a href="http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/"><b>dianadisaster</b></a></span>.</p><p>Written for <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_ksvalentine"><a href="http://ksvalentine.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://ksvalentine.livejournal.com/"><b>ksvalentine</b></a></span>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	In His Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/profile)[**dianadisaster**](http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Written for [](http://ksvalentine.livejournal.com/profile)[**ksvalentine**](http://ksvalentine.livejournal.com/).

“Spoooock,” Jim croons when he turns around and finds his first officer behind him. “Spock, Spock, Spock.” He beams and then adds, “Spock!” for good measure.

“Captain,” Spock greets him, and then after studying him for a moment, asks, “Are you well?”

“Peachy!” Jim chirps. He steps toward Spock but the ground seems particularly uneven, and he stumbles. Spock catches him by the arm and turns his attention to the Chieftain with whom Jim had been negotiating.

“He imbibed of the pipe of peace and happiness!” the Chieftain explains before Spock can ask. “He seems to have gotten more happiness than peace.”

“Indeed,” Spock says, trying to keep hold of his flailing Captain without hurting him. “In Starfleet, we do not usually take part in such traditions.”

“So your Captain informed me. He changed his mind when he learned that it was a grave insult to our Gods.”

“The Captain has great respect for the cultural requirements of others. However, I hope that the foreign chemicals will do him no lasting harm,” Spock states evenly.

“It is perfectly safe!” the Chieftain assures him, either not hearing the very Vulcan threat or too affected by his peace pipe to care. “We look forward to the next visit from your Federation.”

“As we look forward to visiting your world again,” Spock replies, and then calls the ship to be beamed up.

“Wow,” Jim says as they materialize on the pad. “Did you see that? I could see my atoms, it was awesome!”

“Captain, Commander,” Scotty greets them, looking extremely amused.

“Hi Scotty!” Jim calls out, takes a step forward and almost falls off the transporter pad. Spock catches him again and helps him down.

“I’ll let McCoy know you’re on your way, Commander,” Scotty tells him.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Spock says and begins to pull the Captain toward sickbay.

“Bye Scotty!” Jim yells as Spock maneuvers them through the door, Jim’s feet dragging the whole way. Scotty’s laugh follows them out into the corridor.

“Captain, if you don’t cooperate, I will be forced to carry you to sickbay,” Spock warns him.

Jim giggles. “Hey, Spock, guess what?” He sways in Spock’s grip, and nearly topples over again.

Spock picks him up easily and starts walking again, this time making progress. “What, Captain?”

Jim has already lost that train of thought, distracted by Spock picking him up. “You’re so warm,” he says, and then he whimpers and goes limp, head rolling back.

“Captain?” Spock says sharply, but there’s no response. He picks up speed, quickly covering the remaining distance to sickbay.

“What happened?” McCoy barks out as they enter. “Scotty said he was high as hell, not unconscious.”

“He lost consciousness on the way here. I am uncertain as to the cause,” Spock explains, setting Jim down on the biobed.

“Goddammit,” McCoy swears. “He’s been poisoned. I don’t know what that drug was, but it’s toxic. It’s interfering with his brain chemistry.” He stabs Jim with a hypo and calls for a nurse.

Spock stands, watching them treat the Captain, silent and out of the way. The flurry of activity slows eventually, and then McCoy is speaking to him again. “He should be fine, Spock. You got him here in time. But he’s gonna be out of it for a while. You might as well go.”

Spock nods. “I am needed on the bridge. I will visit later.” He turns and leaves, and does not glance back.

\---

Jim’s body feels strangely numb, and his brain is all fuzzy. He senses bright lights above him and tries to open his eyes, but his eyelids are heavy and refuse to obey.

The pressure on the fingers of his right hand increases, and he becomes aware of warmth. Someone is holding his hand? That doesn’t seem right. He twitches his fingers and yeah, they’re caught in a tight grip.

“Jim?” he hears as he falls away again.

Spock? he thinks, but he’s asleep before he can find out.

\---

When Jim wakes the next time, Spock is there, sitting next to him with a PADD and a blank face, as untouchable as always. There’s no inappropriate hand holding, to his vast disappointment.

“Spock?” he croaks.

“Captain,” Spock says, practically coming to attention in his seat. “You are awake.” He pushes a button on one of the consoles to notify Bones.

“What happened?” he asks as Spock gets him a small cup of water.

“You inhaled a toxin that almost killed you. You have been in a coma for two days.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that,” Jim admits and blinks. “I feel drugged.”

“You are, Captain,” Spock reminds him.

“Fuck that. I’m getting out of here,” Jim declares and starts to sit up.

Bones comes in then. “Goddammit, Jim, if you’re trying to get out of that bed, I’m gonna knock your ass unconscious again.”

“But Bones!” Jim wails in protest, unable to keep from smiling when Bones rolls his eyes.

“Just try it, kid.”

Jim sighs loudly, but subsides back into bed, pouting. “Tyrant,” he accuses.

“Idiot,” Bones scolds him back, his attention on one of his various instruments of torture.

Spock stands. “Captain, I am due on the bridge.” He nods to them both and departs.

Jim waits until he and Bones are alone, and then comments, “That was weird.”

Bones snorts. “You’re a moron, Jim.” He can tell Bones doesn’t mean it, though, because his hands are gentle as he turns Jim’s head and checks his pupils.

“Why was he here anyway?” he asks. “Doesn’t seem very logical.” Bones refuses to answer. “Anyway, I’m fine,” he insists. “In fact, I’ll just be on my way. Things to do, ships to Captain.”

Bones scowls at him. “You’re not going anywhere for at least 24 hours. I need to be sure your fool head isn’t broken.”

Jim pouts, but Bones ignores him, continuing to tinker with the machines around the bed. Jim yawns finally, feeling unaccountably tired given that he just woke up. “Did you sedate me?” Jim asks, and yawns again. “Fuck, Bones, stop that!”

“Goodnight, Jim,” Bones tells him firmly, and after grumbling for a bit, he obeys and falls asleep.

\---

“Report, Mr. Spock,” Jim orders crisply as he steps out of the turbolift. He beams at his crew, and they smile back. Well, all except Spock, who moves out of Kirk’s chair and stands at attention as Jim approaches.

“All systems are normal. We are continuing on our course to Starbase 5, as ordered.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Jim says. Spock nods and reports to the science station, relieving a blue-shirted ensign.

Jim sits in his chair and does paperwork, too happy to be back on duty to be bored. It takes awhile, but he make a decent dent in the backlog his absence has caused, and it’s only Spock looming beside him that alerts him to shift change.

“I think I’ll stay awhile longer,” he tells Spock.

“Dr. McCoy suggested you do otherwise.” Spock always sounds extra Vulcany when he disagrees. It used to drive Jim nuts, but now he finds it adorable.

“What Bones doesn’t know won’t hurt me,” Jim says with a grin. “Besides, I need to finish my paperwork.”

“The paperwork will wait, Captain, while I believe it would be more beneficial to eat with the crew and allow them time to interact with you. They were apprehensive about your recovery.”

“You’re a hard man to argue with, Mr. Spock,” he says. “Alright, let’s go.”

“It’s weird, I still can’t remember what happened,” Jim tells him as they make their way toward the mess.

“That is an expected complication of brain trauma,” Spock says.

“Yeah, I know. I just meant, I don’t why I did that. I know better than to take alien drugs by now.”

“I am relieved to hear so,” Spock admits, and Jim laughs.

“It was a well-earned lesson,” Jim agrees with a smile.

“As you say, Captain. In regards to the last mission, the Chieftain implied that not smoking was an insult to their Gods. It is probable that they threatened you.”

“Bastards,” Jim says, mildly indignant. “Now I really wish I remembered.”

“It would be useful,” Spock agrees. “However, I included a warning to the diplomats that are following up on the negotiations. It’s in my report.”

“I must not have reached that yet in my pile of paperwork. Good work, Mr. Spock.” Jim smiles.

“I am merely doing my duty,” Spock demurs.

“Of course! But you do it...” Jim trails off and stops in the doorway of the mess. Hearts and streamers are hung throughout the room in every shade of pink and red imaginable.

“I gave the yeomen permission to decorate. Nyota indicated that this was a traditional way to celebrate St. Valentine’s day,” Spock explains when Jim continues to stare.

“Uh. Yeah, it is,” Jim agrees. There are pictures of _cupids_ on the walls with tiny bows and arrows. It’s a bit much. He’s also trying to ignore Spock’s use of Uhura’s first name. After more than a year, Spock still won’t use his, no matter how often he asks.

“Is something wrong, Captain?” Spock inquires, frowning slightly. “Perhaps I should have waited and consulted you on the matter?”

“No, no,” Jim answers quickly. “It’s fine. They sure were … enthusiastic.”

“It looks like someone ate Valentine’s Day and then vomited in here,” Bones grouched from behind them. “And stop blocking the goddamn door!”

“Sorry, Bones,” he apologizes, moving over to the replicators to get his food. “I just hadn’t seen the decorations yet. Is it already Valentine’s?”

“In four days,” Bones supplies, glaring at the outline of a kiss hanging over the replicator. “Damn stupid holiday.”

Jim is inclined to agree, but he keeps silent, not wanting his disapproval to get in the way of anyone’s fun.

“Keptain!” Chekov calls enthusiastically, waving him over. Kirk smiles, puts the matter of Valentine’s Day out of his head, and joins him and Sulu. Spock was right. Right now, his crew needs him.

\---

Two days later, they’re at Starbase 5 picking up much needed supplies for the Vulcan colony. Jim isn’t surprised that the Admiralty are sending them on another errand to New Vulcan. The remaining Vulcans have become exceedingly protective of the space around their colony, with good reason, but the _Enterprise_ is always welcome.

He and Spock are returning from the base office when they turn the corner and find two Vulcans standing outside their shuttle in the large hangar.

He’s about to greet them when something about their body language stops him. He grabs Spock’s arm and waits, watching the two Vulcans converse. They’re too far away to hear the low words, but then one male holds out two of his fingers. The other touches them with two of his own fingers, a brief caress, before turning around and leaving. The first Vulcan boards the shuttle.

“That was...” Jim isn’t sure how to describe it and glances at Spock. He realizes he’s still holding Spock’s arm and releases him quickly. Spock’s face is extremely neutral, which usually means that he’s hiding some kind of strong emotion. “I didn’t think Vulcans approved of public, uh, touching. What was that?”

“It is an acceptable gesture between bondmates,” Spock says.

“Ahhh,” Jim says in understanding. “So if they were human, they’d have been making out or something?”

“That analogy is not sufficient,” Spock tells him, which is totally not a ‘no’.

“Makes sense, I guess. Your hands must be sensitive if you use them for melds and stuff.” Jim reasons.

“Yes,” Spock agrees. “Captain, you were unfamiliar with this gesture?”

“Never seen it before.” He turns to head toward the shuttle but Spock pauses him with another question.

“Why did you stop if you were unaware that their behavior had significance?”

“Well, most Vulcan behavior has significance,” Jim explains. “You guys tend to have a reason for everything. But I stopped because... I don’t know. It just felt intimate. Private, I guess.” Jim laughs at the faint expression on Spock’s face, this one familiar. “You have to stop being so shocked when I prove that I’m a sensitive and insightful guy, Spock. It’s getting insulting.”

“Captain, I apologize if—”

Jim waves him off. “I’m just teasing, Mr. Spock. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock agrees and follows him onto the shuttle.

Jim grins and makes introductions and starts the system checks to get them underway, but all he’s thinking about is the non-expression on Spock’s face and the feeling of warm fingers around his own, a sensation he’d written off as a dream.

\---

Bridge shift the next day is uneventful, which is good because Jim’s completely distracted. He fills the time and tries, with varying amounts of success, not to stare at Spock’s hands.

Later, when all his duties are finished for the day, he goes and visits Bones.

He sprawls in a chair in Bone’s office and refuses an offer of whiskey. “So,” he begins. “I think I might be about to do something stupid.”

“If this is about sex,” Bones warns him, “Then you can shut up right now.”

“No, geez, it’s not. Well, not completely. Anyway,” he continues before Bones can protest, “I saw these two Vulcans making out—”

“You _what_?” Bones asks incredulously.

“—And I can’t get it out of my head, and I think I might do something stupid.”

“This is about sex!” Bones accuses him. “I knew this was about sex.”

“Not all of it!” Jim defends himself, but that just brings out Bones’ martyr face. Usually Jim really likes that he’s the only person who annoys Bones that much, but this time he hasn’t even done anything.

“That’s even worse,” Bones says. “If you fuck with Spock and break his little green heart, I’m not sure he’ll recover.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jim backtracks. “I never said anything about Spock.”

Bones rolls his eyes. “How many other Vulcans do we know? Plus, you’ve been pining after him for months. You’re not exactly subtle.”

The bottom drops out of Jim’s stomach. “Does Spock—”

“Of course he doesn’t know,” Bones interrupts. “Love ain’t logical. And he isn’t as familiar with your particular brand of crazy as I am.”

“Right,” Jim says. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath and frowns. “Wait, I’m not going to break his heart! You think I’m going to break his heart?”

“I think you’re a goddamn clusterfuck when it comes to relationships,” Bones answers. “But the fact that you mentioned it at all means that you’ve clearly made up your mind about this, so why’re you asking for my opinion?”

Put like that, Jim isn’t really sure. “Thanks, Bones. I’ll see you later.” He leaves before Bones has a chance to snark back.

He finds Spock in his lab, and there’s no one else around at the moment. “Hey, Spock,” he says. “I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”

“All of my experiments are important, Captain,” Spock says, and Jim grins. “This is not time sensitive, however.”

“Good. I was just wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tomorrow. Maybe play a game of chess.”

Spock stops working to look up at him. “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I had assumed that you would be participating in the festivities.”

“To be honest, it’s not my favorite holiday. And I’m a little afraid that people are going to use it as an excuse to hit on me. Not that I blame them, but I’d rather not have to reject anyone.” Jim shrugs. “I figured you could also use an excuse to avoid our illogical human holiday. Oh, unless you already have plans, of course.”

“I had planned to work in the lab,” Spock states, and Jim releases the breath he was holding. “However, a game of chess would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Jim smiles. “So I’ll see you at dinnertime tomorrow.”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock agrees, and returns to his work.

Jim heads back to his quarters, unable to keep that smile off his face.

\---

“Hey,” Jim says. “Come on in.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Spock is in his uniform. Jim is in his pants and boots, but he’d lost his uniform shirts for a black short sleeve shirt so that he could turn up the heat.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Tea, Captain,” Spock replies.

“Call me Jim,” he throws over his shoulder as he gets their drinks and food from the replicator. Spock ignores him as usual. “Have a seat. I thought we could eat first, and then I’d kick your ass at chess.”

“You may certainly try,” Spock allows in a condescending tone. Jim laughs and lays out several plates of food. “This is a Vulcan dish,” Spock states.

“Yeah,” Jim agrees, joining Spock at the small table.

“I did not believe that this was available outside of the mess.”

“I added it to my replicator last night.” Spock raises an eyebrow, and he shrugs. “I like to reprogram when I’m bored.”

“I appreciate the consideration,” Spock says.

“Sure. Hey, how are our Vulcan guests? Are they thoroughly confused by our crazy human illogic yet?”

“They are well. Additionally, all of our passengers have resided previously on research vessels alongside humans and are therefore familiar with human behavior. They did inform me, however, that this Valentine’s Day seemed particularly illogical.”

“I can’t argue with them, actually. I think the crew is using this as an excuse to blow off some steam. I’m glad to be clear of it.”

“I am surprised to hear that. You seem to enjoy social gatherings,” Spock remarks, voice devoid of inflection, but Jim can hear the question behind it.

“I do! I’m a party kind of guy,” Jim says, “But that’s not what Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about.”

“That has not been my experience,” Spock relates. “What is its true purpose?”

“To spend time with people you care about,” Jim explains, and then quickly, before he can think better of it, reaches forward and runs two of his fingers down the back of Spock’s hand. He glances up. Spock’s face has gone particularly blank, but he hasn’t moved away. Jim does it again, feeling Spock’s warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

“Jim,” Spock says, voice a touch breathless. Jim can’t help the wave of triumph and satisfaction that rolls through him at the sound of his name coming from Spock. “Jim, you do not know what you are offering.”

“Yes, I do,” Jim says. He turns his hand over, captures two of Spock’s fingers with his own and squeezes gently.

Spock’s lips part, his eyes focused on their joined hands. “Vulcans are monogamous.”

“I know.” Jim starts to caress Spock’s knuckles with his thumb.

“I am male,” Spock states.

“Yeah, I know that, too,” Jim says with a small laugh. “Spock, seriously, I understand. Now, are you going to admit you want me, or are you going to keep stating the obvious?”

Spock blinks and then slowly moves his fingers against Jim’s. “I did not even allow myself to...” he pauses, then asks, “How did you know?” He looks bewildered, as if he can’t believe this his happening even though he is observing it himself.

“I had a dream when I was in sickbay. You were holding my hand, just like this. I didn’t think it was real until I saw those Vulcan’s outside of the shuttle and you explained what it meant.” He pulls his hand away from Spock’s and stands, coming around the table and pulls at Spock’s chair.

Spock promptly pushes away from the table, but before he can stand, Jim climbs into his lap, kneeling with Spock’s legs between his. He rakes his fingers through Spock’s hair. “You looked like you wanted it. What they had. And I thought that you might want it with me.”

Spock’s eyes are dark and intent. “I do.”

Jim smiles at him. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he warns him playfully, bringing his other hand up to cup Spock’s jaw.

“You have already kissed me,” Spock retorts, although his eyes drop to Jim’s lips.

Jim laughs. Spock is warm beneath him, and he’s so turned on it’s ridiculous. “That’s true,” he says, and changes tactics. He takes Spock’s hand and brings it up to his lips, licking the fingertips and then blowing cool air.

Jim licks his lips and then swallows two of Spock’s fingers. He tongues the crease where they connect to the palm, then sucks. Spock’s hips thrust, grinding their cocks together through two layers of uniform pants. Jim groans at the sudden pressure, which sends vibrations through Spock’s fingers and causes him to thrust again. His free hand comes up and slips beneath Jim’s shirt, steadying him and stroking the small of his back.

He pulls Spock’s fingers out of his mouth, slowly, lips tight as if it was Spock’s cock instead, then licks across Spock’s palm. Spock whines low in throat. He’s absolutely wrecked now, hips jerking erratically, mouth open around nearly silent gasps. Jim looks him right in the eye and bites down on the skin at the base of his thumb, shoving his hips down to give Spock something to push against.

Spock comes, and Jim appreciates this kind of kissing even more because he can see Spock’s face tighten and relax, his choked off cry echoing loud in the quiet.

Jim holds Spock’s hand as he takes a deep breath and refocuses on Jim.

“I apologize.” Spock’s voice is approaching normal, if a bit unsteady. He frowns and tries to straighten up in the chair, but the move brings his body against Jim’s still hard cock and causes Jim’s breath to hitch.

“For what?” Jim asks, incredulous. “You were gorgeous.”

“I was rather precipitous in my—”

“Gorgeous,” Jim repeats firmly. “More kissing now.” Then he leans forward and finally captures Spock’s lips, which are soft beneath his own. He kisses one corner and then the other, smiling as Spock gets with the program and begins to unfasten Jim’s pants.

Soon, Spock has a firm grip on his cock, following the rhythm of Jim’s hips, short jerks that he’s helpless to keep still. Spock sucks on his bottom lip, and he groans in to the kiss. The hand at his back disappears and then is cupping the back of his head, Spock’s fingers gripping the hair there and pulling his head back. Jim tries to lean forward and keep kissing, but Spock tightens his grip, his scalp tingling pleasantly.

“I want to see you come,” Spock says, when Jim keeps pulling, and Jim whines at that, letting his head go limp into Spock’s hold and watching Spock, whose gaze is darting from face to his cock and back. Jim catches Spock’s eye and brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking on them as he’d done to Spock, trying to look as utterly debauched as possible.

“Jim,” Spock gasps, and hearing that is all Jim needs to come, spurting over Spock’s hand, pleasure so intense that his eyes shutter close and there’s a roaring in his ears. Everything is fuzzy for a long moment, and then he’s back in Spock’s lap, Spock’s fingers a warm pressure against his own.

He opens his eyes, and Spock looks thoughtful. “We should repeat these actions without clothing,” he suggests, and Jim laughs, loud and happy.

“Hey, Spock,” Jim says, smile stretched wide across his face, “Want to be my Valentine?”

“I believe I already am, Jim.”

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” Jim declares, bringing their joined hands up to press his lips to the back of Spock’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/206465.html).


End file.
